A Night at the Opera: A House Musical
by SkidInSideways
Summary: A House Fantasia--an original cast recording.


Paragraph Styles:

A NIGHT AT THE OPERA

A House Fantasia

ACT I, Scene 1

(INTERIOR: PPTH lobby. HOUSE and WILSON are heading toward the elevators. WILSON looks his usual dapper self. HOUSE looks like death on toast.)

WILSON: Still not sleeping?

HOUSE: Oh, yeah, I slept like a baby. I only look like this because a bus hit me on my way to work and dragged me here on my face.

WILSON: And you took it as directed. Right?

HOUSE: I was twice as careful as everyone else.

WILSON: Is there anything I can give you that you won't immediately abuse?

HOUSE: Never mind that. (He makes a "gimme" gesture)

WILSON: I'm fresh out of alternatives.

(HOUSE waits impatiently)

WILSON: All right. There's one more trick in my bag.

(He gets out his Rx pad and starts writing)

WILSON: I save this for my hard-core insomniacs. But you've gotta take it as directed. No double-dosing. No washing it down with Maker's Mark. You put on your jammies, get in bed, and take this with a full glass of water. Not a shot glass—a real glass.

HOUSE (grabbing the scrip; offended): I don't even own a shot glass.

Scene 2

(INTERIOR: HOUSE's apartment, late at night. He is wearing sweatpants and a fleece top, not pajamas, and he is sitting on his couch, not his bed. MUSIC: Faust, "Mais ce Dieu, que peut-il faire pour moi?" is playing on his iPod, amplified through his stereo. HOUSE takes a pill and washes it down with Jack Daniels, not Makers Mark. He reads the insert that came with the pills, makes a face, and takes another pill.)

FAUST

Et que peux-tu pour moi? (And what can you (do) for me?)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Tout,... tout...Mais dis-moi d'abord ce que tu veux: Est-ce de l'or? (Everything... Everything...But tell me first what you want: Is it gold?)

FAUST

Que ferai-je de la richesse? (What will I do with riches?)

MEPHISTOPHELES

Je vois où le bât te blesse! Tu veux la gloire? (I know where the load wounds you! You want glory?)

FAUST

Plus encore. (More still.)

MEPHISTOPHELES

La puissance? (Power?)

FAUST

Non.

HOUSE: All I want is a decent night's sleep. And maybe a box of good cigars.

(HOUSE sinks back into the couch and lets himself be carried away by the music, which gradually fades. CU his face and fade to:

Scene 3

(Morning, House's apartment; everything is the same as the night before except that everything is now rotoscoped, in homage to Waking Life, albeit with much less boiling because it makes me queasy. Music has shifted to an operatic instrumental, unidentifiable as anything ever staged. Music swells, waking HOUSE; he sits up, looking confused. He picks up his iPod and peers at it. The screen reads "Shuffle" in blinking, barely legible characters. Stunned, House looks out the window:)

(And sees himself, dressed and ready for work, walking to his old clunker of the car.)

(EXTERIOR: House looks up, sees a cigar-shaped object streaking across the sky. His feet begin to float off the ground; he grabs for the car door handle, but only gets a few fingertips on it before he is pulled into the sky; white-out against the sun.)

(Instrumental music seques to a lilting duet between a man and a woman singing excitedly in English about a new life that they have made together.)

(White-out resolves; House is standing in one of the birthing rooms at the hospital, wearing scrubs and mask. He looks up at the bed to see a heavily pregnant woman, just as she lets loose with a powerful F above high C)

WOMAN (singing): The drugs! Give me the drugs before I hurt someone!

MAN (singing): Darling, you don't need drugs. I am here for you—let us do our breathing…

WOMAN (hits another high note): Fuck you! You breathe! GIVE ME THE DRUGS!

MAN (to House): Can't you do something non-invasive and non-sedating to help her?

(House just stares at him, bewildered, as the music continues; clearly, he missed his cue.)

WOMAN (another high note): It's coming!

MAN (joyfully): It's coming!

WOMAN: Here it comes! (Another spectacular note)

MAN (ecstatic): Here it comes!

WOMAN (just shrieking now): SHUT UP, YOU WITLESS SPERM DONOR! AGHHHH…

(POV couple as something shoots out of the woman, hitting House in the gut; he catches it as if it were a football.)

BABY (wailing above high C): J'ARRIVE!

MAN: Oh! I am so happy!

WOMAN: Oh! You are so getting your vas deferentia knotted!

MAN (to House): How can we thank you? Here, have a cigar!

(He jams an enormous cigar in HOUSE's mouth, grabs the baby; the woman hops off the birthing bed and dances with the man. They both laugh musically as they gently toss the baby back and forth; House follows them to the door and stares as they make their way down the corridor; orderlies, nurses and patients stand in doorways tossing rose petals in their path.)

ORDERLIES/NURSES/PATIENTS

A new life! All of heaven rejoices—

And so begins your adventure:

Nursing and teething…

The Terrible Twos…

Tantrums and seething…

Trips to the zoo…

Parent/teacher conferences…

Separation anxiety…

Adolescent fashion…

(The new parents dance with less and less enthusiasm; they leave the scene sort of dragging the kid behind them.)

ACT II, Scene 1

(MUSIC: Monarch of the Sea)

(HOUSE doesn't so much walk to his conference room as it comes to him; the team, Foreman at the white board, are waiting for him)

FOREMAN

The patient's just turned 33/according to his history;

CAMERON and CHASE

And here are his vitals and his tox screen and his bloods

And here are his vitals and his tox screen and his bloods

And here is his tox screen and his vitals and his Fox scene

His vitals and his tox screen and his bloods!

(HOUSE tries to speak his lines, but keeps breaking into melody)

HOUSE

Why are you putting this in song?

What are you putting in your bong?

CAMERON, CHASE, and FOREMAN

We think dif-fer-ren-tial di-ag-no-ses should be sung

We think dif-fer-ren-tial di-ag-no-ses should be sung

We prefer to sing it, when it comes to song, we bring it

Our differential diagnosis song!

(With a tremendous effort, HOUSE manages to get through most of the next line without singing)

HOUSE

The next person who sings is gonna get a metronome up his horn section. Or hers.

(Ignoring him, the ducklings form a circle and dance in a stately manner around HOUSE, humming in a Gilbert and Sullivan kind of way. As the next tune begins, they stop and a spotlight shines on FOREMAN)

(MUSIC: Song of the Major General)

FOREMAN

I am the very model of a modern neurophysicist

I'm not a chiropractor or a Chinese acupunturist

I'm brilliant on cerebral cortex, limbic system, temporal

But when it comes to people skills I've barely got the minimal

CAMERON and CHASE

His grasp of things cerebral, his diagnostic skills are magical

But when it comes to friends and love, his lack is truly tragical

HOUSE (Bewildered): Who asked you?

(The ducklings resume their dignified dance. MUSIC: "I'm Called Little Buttercup")

CAMERON

I'm called Dr. Cameron

Sweet Ali Cameron

My critics don't really know why

Although you berate me

You just want to date me

Why don't you admit it, and try?

(HOUSE isn't listening; he is watching CHASE with severe apprehension.)

(MUSIC: Intro to The Land Down Under)

HOUSE (shouting): I've died and gone to hell. STOP! (To Chase) If you sing that, I will cut off your koalas and hang them over the table as a warning to others.

(The spotlight follows CHASE to center stage. MUSIC: A British Tar)

CHASE

An Aussie doc is a soaring soul

As free as a galloping hoss,

His energetic fist should be ready to resist

A dictatorial boss

His nose should pant

and his lip should curl,

His cheeks should flame

and his brow should furl,

His bosom should heave

and his heart should glow,

And his fist be ever ready

for a knock-down blow

(CHASE, carried away, actually takes a swing at HOUSE, who blocks with his cane)

HOUSE (dryly): I get the idea.

(MUSIC: We Sail the Ocean Blue; the ducklings inhale, ready to belt out another one)

HOUSE (really yelling now): HOLD IT. (MUSIC groans to a stop like a record player running down.) Okay. I've figured a few things out. One: this isn't a typical Wednesday. Two: given that not one of you has ever demonstrated any talent for singing—or any talent for anything besides coming up with wrong answers—it's unlikely you could perform Gilbert and Sullivan with a modicum of proficiency, let alone improvise the lyrics. My guess is, I'm dreaming. And since I'm aware that I'm dreaming, this is a lucid dream—and I can control a lucid dream. So here're the ground rules: no more operetta. No more opera—it's all rock n roll from here til morning. And since nothing we can do here can affect the patient one way or the other, let's give him the works.

Scene 2

(MUSIC: Spinning Wheel)

(The DUCKLINGS wheel the patient into a room that is set up as a kind of medical gymnasium, with CT scanner, closed MRI, functional MRI, stress table, treadmill, etc. HOUSE stands by as they strap the patient onto the CT scanner table, then starts adjusting the height of the table and even making it spin around, in time with the lyrics)

HOUSE

What goes up must come down

The healthcare system goes round and round

Talkin' 'bout your symptoms; it's a cryin' shame

I don't give a rat's ass, I just wanna play the game

(The DUCKLINGS move the patient to the MRI)

HOUSE

What goes in must come out

You are sick without a doubt

Maybe we can figure out your present ills

Maybe we will dose you with our magic pills

(The ducklings move the patient to the fMRI scanner. HOUSE, in the control room, is watching the image of his brain appear on the screen)

HOUSE

Do you find that our diagnostic style

Is a little unconventional?

Would you mind a more standard kind?

Just let it find within your mind

The shapes and the colours of your fears!

(The image pulses, morphs into 1960s-type psychedelia)

HOUSE

You got no Blue Cross and you got no dough

You're at our mercy, dontcha know?

Drop all your opinions at the check-in desk

Ride the nasty pony on the Medicaid Express...

(As the music swells toward the outro, the equipment is lit up like a pinball table, with pinging and other SFX each time the patient is forced into a new test. As the music reaches a crescendo, the table he is on begins spinning out of control; it is engulfed in smoke; there's a terrible explosion; the patient appears, running for his life; when the smoke blows away, the equipment is completely trashed...)

HOUSE: Look! We made him all better!

Scene 3

(The ducklings flee. MUSIC: Bad Boys Get Spanked)

PA SYSTEM: Dr. House! Please call Dr. Cuddy. Dr House!

(The room collapses into itself, then expands to reveal Cuddy, dressed in Administrative Chic, leaning against her desk, her back to House.)

CUDDY

You're not supposed to do that

You know you're not allowed to

But you seem to get some kind of kick

Out of doing what youre not allowed to

You deliberately defy the rules

cause the law's upheld by fools

(CUDDY turns—and as she does, the office scene falls away, she's dressed as the Queen Dominatrix)

Spit on that!

Bad boys get spanked—huh!

(CUDDY approaches House, who looks seriously taken aback; he seems to have lost control of this part of the dream)

CUDDY

You can look but don't touch

But no; you can't resist

Don't you ever think about the consequences?

Guys like you never do

That's the kind of stuff boys are made out of

(Very buff young men in scrubs file in from the left)

Thats the kind of stuff girls are made out of

(Very buff young women in scrubs file in from the right)

You know: Bad boys get spanked—HUH!

(CUDDY snaps her whip—the scrubs fall away to reveal mildly S&M gear)

Bad boys get spanked…

(CUDDY snaps her whip again—HOUSE, to his horror, is revealed in S&M gear, too, complete with 'distressed' leather bandage over his scar)

(One wall revolves to reveal Chi McBride, as Vogler, sitting behind a desk with a name plate and his own microphone. Cuddy stands behind him, menacingly)

VOGLER

You don't listen, do you, asshole?

CUDDY

You don't listen, do you, asshole?

Don't be a punk all your life

Someone's gonna sort you out

They'll try to make a man out of you

Now, say yes sir, say no sir

Say yes ma'am, say no ma'am

You know that

Bad boys get spanked

Bad boys get spanked

(CUDDY keeps flicking whip; HOUSE is starting to enjoy the attention)

CUDDY

Get spanked, get spanked

Come here, get spanked!

Bad boys get spanked

C'mere—get spanked!

(CUDDY is carried off-screen by the S&M dancers—she cracks the whip one last time—the lash catches House and spins him around, causing him to spiral downward as clock ticks…)

ACT III, Scene 1

(Ticking noise becomes sound of metronome, and Wilson appears, seated at House's piano, gliding down the corridor. MUSIC: Variations on the intro to The More You Ruv Someone from Avenue Q)

(As the piano draws near, we see that Wilson is actually playing it.)

HOUSE: You can't play piano.

WILSON: Nope.

(WILSON plays an especially graceful flourish)

HOUSE (sitting next to Wilson): You're tone deaf.

WILSON: That's right.

HOUSE: You can't carry a tune in a duffel bag.

WILSON (sings):

The more you know someone, the more you want to kill him

The more you know someone, the more you want to run

Though you are trying to be friends with him, god help you;

Sometimes he's such a jerk you want to kick his bum.

WILSON (speaks): Play it forward.

(HOUSE takes over the keyboard; the piano moves silently down the hall)

HOUSE

The more you know someone, the more you want to slug him

The more you know someone, the more you want to fight

And so you say the things you know for sure will bug him

And drop a red sock in the washer with his whites

WILSON: That was you!

HOUSE: I didn't say that.

WILSON:

Friends!

HOUSE:

Friends...

WILSON

Can hurt...

HOUSE

Can hurt?

WILSON

They'll drive you crazy, and treat you like dirt.

HOUSE

What? When?

WILSON

You try to help—he has a fit

But if you walk away he's sure to lose his sh—

HOUSE

—sure he will.

WILSON

The more you know someone, the more he drives you crazy

HOUSE

The more you know someone, the less you want to know

WILSON

Sometimes you look at him, and only see drugs and lazy

HOUSE

But he's so witty

WILSON

And so outrageous

HOUSE (flirtatiously)

And so damned pretty

WILSON

His laugh's contagious...

BOTH

He is your friend...

(HOUSE picks up a cigar that has somehow materialized in an ashtray on the piano, and sticks it in his face; he and WILSON grin at each other in homage to the smile Archie and Edith Bunker exchange at the end of the opening credits for All in the Family.)

Scene 2

(The piano glides to a stop in front of a door marked Exit. HOUSE slides off the piano seat and watches the piano float away. Then he checks the door again: it still says Exit. But as he passes through the door, the sign becomes garbled, like the iPod screen earlier.)

(HOUSE finds himself in an operating theater set up as a medical version of the cave in Phantom of the Opera, with dozens and dozens of those tiny lights they use in examining rooms, swaths of sterile drapes everywhere, the floor so heavily waxed and lit from underneath that it suggests the underground lake; in the center, a luxuriously appointed operating table. At the same time, the atmosphere is highly reminiscent of the check-in scene in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.)

(CAMERON appears, in full surgical regalia; her eyes are heavily made up, and her mask has a giant lipsticked mouth drawn on it that opens and closes as she sings.)

CAMERON

I have brought you

to the seat of sweet

kindness's throne . . .

to this kingdom

where all must pay

homage to niceness . . .

niceness . . .

(CAMERON rises one hand, and HOUSE begins to levitate until he is parallel to the floor; he struggles furiously, but to no avail. As she sings, she directs him with a touch and a pointed finger to the operating table, where she ties him down real good.)

CAMERON

You have come here,

for one purpose,

and one alone . . .

Since the moment

I first heard you snarl,

I have needed

you with me,

to serve me, to change,

for some romance . . .

my romance . . .

(CAMERON whips aside a curtain to reveal the robotic surgical device from No Reason. She sits down at the controls and begins to manipulate the robot arms, which begin by blowing a puff of air under HOUSE's t-shirt, then slicing it neatly to the neck.)

HOUSE: That's vintage!

CAMERON

You are cranky,

you, sir, have no manners . . .

Tactless, heedless

blowing up the scanners . . .

I think you can see

this is not the way to be . . .

(Two of the robot "hands" lay a snap line down HOUSE's torso, from collarbone to navel. Another hand paints the work area with iodine. A fourth "hand" is really a miniature buzz saw; it begins to buzz and is lowered toward the skin. HOUSE, unanesthetized, gets to watch the whole thing.)

CAMERON

Slowly, gently

I'll remove your bile . . .

Milk it, squeeze it -

replace it with a smile . . .

You'll become a giver,

so hand over that liver,

and I will substitute a

rainbow tree -

and change you to

The man that you should be . . .

(The robotic arms busily harvest organs and other assorted items from HOUSE's body: a Bone of Contention, a gall bladder that makes a loud clang when dropped into a garbage pail; his liver, ditto. They are replaced with a Funny Bone, a cute little teddy bear, and a cartoon tree that shoots rainbows all over the place.)

CAMERON

Close your eyes

and surrender to your

sweetest dreams!

Purge your thoughts

of the life

you knew before!

Close your eyes,

let your niceness

start to thrive!

And you'll live

like every other

Schlub alive . . .

(The robotic arms have inserted a catheter where? We don't get to see and have drained a noxious-looking fluid out of HOUSE and into a serious-looking receptacle marked "Toxic Waste." Another set of hands runs an IV from a bag marked "Milk of Human Kindness.")

CAMERON

Softly, gently,

entertain the notion . . .

You and me and

lots of sweet emotion . . .

Open up your heart,

Darling, this is just the start,

it's a future which

you know you cannot flee—

the future of

the man you need to be . . .

(CAMERON has removed HOUSE's somewhat battered heart and is about to implant a donor organ—done up like a Barbie Valentine—when he manages to gnaw through the restraints and leap off the table. Frantically looking for an exit, he yanks down a swath of drape to see a wax figure of himself, clean-shaven and mild-mannered, a toddler on one hip and a newborn on his other arm, a diaper over his shoulder. As he gapes in horror at the apparition, CAMERON sneaks up from behind, wielding a huge syringe. She plunges the needle into his unprotected butt. When he collapses, she effortlessly carries him back to the operating table. He opens his eyes (POV HOUSE) just in time to see Cameron lower the anesthesia mask onto his face.

CAMERON

You must come to know that you love me

I'll help you be the man you need to be ...

(Blackout)

Scene 3

(Morning on Baker Street. Series of shots; House's neighbors walking their dogs, watering their porch plants, heading out to work.)

(Whistling noise. Neighbors look up; POV neighbors; a dark object appears in the sky hurtling towards the earth; it comes closer and closer...)

(SFX: Loud, soggy noise)

(Cut to extreme CU HOUSE's face, looking even more haggard than the day before. His eyes pop wide open. He looks around the room frantically, gets up and hobbles briskly toward the kitchen to make coffee, trying to ignore the odd little visions—a baby toddling, the PotW, Cuddy's dominatrix face, a cigar in an ashtray—bubbling up in his peripheral vision.)

Epilogue

(INT. PPTH lobby. House is dragging himself toward the elevator. Wilson, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, catches up. House gives him an apprehensive look—is Wilson going to burst into song again?)

WILSON: Good morning!

HOUSE: Not really.

(They ride up in silence. WILSON keeps sneaking looks at HOUSE, who resolutely looks away. As they disembark, HOUSE pulls the bottle of sleeping pills out of his pocket and, still not looking up, hands it to WILSON. Somewhere on the floor, music is playing.)

HOUSE: A donation. Give it to one of your Medicare terminals.

WILSON: You didn't sleep?

HOUSE: I slept. But the side effects were a bitch.

(He staggers away, shouting)

HOUSE: Hey! Where's that music coming from? People are trying to work here!

(MUSIC swells; behind House's back, an orderly lifts a nurse balletically as they cross the corridor just before fade to black.)

The End


End file.
